


Scars Run Deeper

by AlexBarton



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Slight AU in that Molly is not interested in Sherlock, starts set in between Season 1 and Season 2, written before s3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 06:02:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1156003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexBarton/pseuds/AlexBarton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John runs into an old friend from Afghanistan. When he invites her back to 221b for tea, how does she react to Sherlock? And more importantly, how does Sherlock react to her, especially after she solves a case?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars Run Deeper

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: There is cursing, mentions of a dark past, and explicit sex.
> 
> I should mention that when I wrote this, Season 3 had yet to come out, so I guess this is AU now.

John spotted her at the Tesco one afternoon. “Christina!” She turned, obviously surprised at anyone calling for her, but then her expression brightened.

“John! It’s so good to see you!” They hugged for a moment, then she stepped back. “You look well John. Are you better?”

He nodded. “Yeah I’m fine. Would you like to come over for tea? We can catch up.”

She grinned and nodded. They exited the shop and walked back to 221B, where he suddenly stopped.

“I have to warn you, I have a flat-mate. He’s a bit eccentric. And rude.”

Christina laughed, “I’m pretty sure I can handle rude and eccentric, John.”

John shook his head, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” as he opened the door. They climbed the stairs where they were greeted by Sherlock playing the violin. Christina went to introduce herself, but John grabbed her arm and pulled her into the kitchen.

“Don’t bother him when he’s playing the violin, trust me.”

She looked puzzled, but didn’t question the man. She started unpacking the groceries, and upon opening the fridge, she screamed.

“Oh my God, John there’s a head in the fridge!”

John shook his head apologetically, “Sorry I told you he was eccentric.”

“So this is normal then? You just put the milk next to the head then?”

John chuckled as he prepared the tea. “Something like that, yes.”

When the tea was done, John took a mug out to Sherlock, and then sat to talk with Christina. Sherlock continued playing through their conversation. Suddenly he stopped. Without turning around, he said, “I don’t suppose you can stop talking? Your voice is rather irritating. Can you change that?”

Christina looked up, “Well your face is irritating, and I sure as hell can change that for you.”

To which, Sherlock turned around, looked her up and down, stuck out his hand, and said, “Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective.”

Christina shook his hand and replied, “Christina Poulos, friend of John’s from-”

“- from the army. American, of Greek decent, judging by the last name. Seen some combat, but no heavy fighting, therefore medical corps. Not a surgeon or nurse’s hands, therefore pharmacist. Injured in the right wrist, though it’s healed over, judging by the recent scarring. From either North or South Carolina, due to your particular Southern drawl. Am I right?”

Christina just looked at John who replied, “Yes he does that.” 

She looked back at Sherlock and nodded, “North Carolina.” 

He seemed pleased at that.  Christina stood, “Right, well I need to be off John.”

He stood up as well, “Where are you staying? Maybe I’ll drop by before you leave.”

She shook her head. “I’m not leaving John. I’m not going back to America. My parents weren’t happy when I joined the army so we stopped keeping in contact, and my dad only started talking to me again after… after I got injured. So I will be here. For now. But I need to find a place to stay, so I really do need to be going.”

“Stay with us. No seriously,” he said to her skeptical look, “Sherlock rarely sleeps, so it will hardly be an imposition.”

She looked at Sherlock, “If Mr. Holmes doesn’t mind…”

“Mr. Holmes doesn’t care either way,” Sherlock stated, staring out the window.

“Then it’s settled, you’ll be staying with us.”

Christina shrugged. “For now. I really should get my own place eventually. But thanks for the offer.”

John nodded, “Now where are your things?”

“At the American Embassy right now. I only have one bag though John, so there’s no need to come with me.”

“Nonsense, let’s go. Sherlock, we’ll be back later.”

+++++++++++++++

Weeks passed and Christina found a job at a local pharmacy. She started rebuilding her life, and occasionally went out with John and Sherlock to look at cases. This particular one that she was looking at now involved a dead man, body abandoned in the mud on a bank of the Thames. Sherlock was speaking with DI Lestrade as she looked over the man’s body. He was in his forties or fifties and dressed in relatively normal clothes. A flash of metal caught her eye: a medical bracelet with a phone number on it.

“Sherlock,” she called, “Have you seen this?”

He turned to see her pointing at the bracelet. “Yes what of it?”

“He had Alzheimer’s or dementia. One of the two.”

His brow furrowed. “How do you know?”

“Because the bracelet only has a phone number, not anything that he is allergic to, or a diabetic warning. When we see that, it means the patient has Alzheimer’s or dementia; in case they cannot remember anything, we can contact a point of care.”

“If he had either disease, why would he be roaming about the city then?” Lestrade questioned, “Wouldn’t he be at a home or being taken care of?”

“Perhaps.” Christina mused, “Or perhaps it hadn’t progressed far enough that it required hospitalization and care. That’s what the bracelet is for. But something is off; there’s something else wrong. Can we get him autopsied?”

-

Back at the lab, Christina ran a sample of the man’s blood while waiting for Molly to be done with the autopsy. When the other woman came in, she reported that the man had a brain tumor, a fast growing one and that it would have killed him within the next few months anyways. She added that it seemed that he had died of a drug overdose.

“Thanks Molly,” Christina smiled at her as the woman left. “So a brain tumor, the best drug would have been Temozolomide.” She looked at the dead man’s medical charts. “There we are Temozolomide, which is injectable and Aricept, for the Alzheimer’s. So there’s someone else in this.”

Sherlock looked over at her, “Why?”

“Well you wouldn’t want to self-inject a drug, would you?”

Sherlock just looked down and said nothing. Christina sensed something from him, but she didn’t say anything.

“Although, if he was an Alzheimer’s patient, he might have forgotten that he took one of his Aricept tablets and took another and overdosed accidentally. I need the blood test to be sure though.”

As if on cue, the machine beeped and printed out the results. Christina grabbed a highlighter and began perusing the information, highlighting necessary information.

After a few minutes, she rushed out the door saying, “Come on, we’ve got to see Lestrade!”

When Sherlock caught up to her, she was talking rapidly to Donovan and Lestrade. “If you look here, it shows that the Aricept levels were normal, meaning that he only took one of the Alzheimer’s medications. But, he also has normal levels of Temozolomide, which is for the tumor. However, he’s got another drug in his system, called Dacarbazine. It’s also used for brain tumors, but it’s dangerous and more caustic to the body. It has the exact same function as Temozolomide, so it would cause the body to overdose on a similar drug. Additionally, if it’s not administered right, it can cause chemical burns. So I think he was actually murdered.”

Lestrade looked overwhelmed and Donovan was smirking up at Sherlock. “What you had to get someone to help you? I would’ve thought that you were the expert on drugs Sherlock.”

Christina looked confused, “No it’s not common knowledge actually. I’m not surprised that he doesn’t know about drugs.”

Donovan laughed, “No not the legal ones love.” With that she turned and walked away, leaving Christina looking at Sherlock for an explanation. With none forthcoming, she handed him the blood test results and left.

-

That afternoon, when John was watching the telly and Sherlock was doing who knows what in the kitchen, Christina’s phone went off.

“Shit. Sorry I have to take this.” She got off the couch and walked out to the stairwell, shutting the door behind her, but they could still hear her.

“No I’m not coming to therapy. I told you that it was a waste of time. No I do not have trust issues it’s just that you’re a fucking lousy therapist. Goodbye and stop calling.”

With that she entered the room again to see John looking at her. “What?”

“If you need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

“You heard?” John nodded. “Well then listen here John, I don’t need to talk to anyone. I’m fine.”

“Whatever you say. But just remember, it’s not always a bad thing to let someone in.”

She huffed and flopped down on the couch beside John. “Not going to happen.”

+++++++++++++++

One day, John had to work and Sherlock was on a case, so Christina went with Sherlock to the crime scene. It was near a junkyard, and she was just looking around when she heard Donovan call, “Oi, Freak, Lestrade is in here.”

Sherlock went off to talk with Lestrade, while Christina walked over to Donovan. “Why do you call him ‘Freak’? He has a name.”

She just looked at her funny. “Because he is freak.”

“No he isn’t. Regardless, how would you feel if every time Sherlock saw you he called you ‘trollop’ or something rude like that? You wouldn’t like it. So don’t call him a freak.”

Donovan looked at her amazed, and then suddenly slapped her. “Don’t call me a trollop.”

Christina shoved her back, “Don’t touch me you little bitch.” They were about to go at it, when suddenly Christina felt hands behind her, and she reacted. She threw the man to the ground. When Donovan tried to kick her, she grabbed her leg, twisted her, and knocked her out with a quick punch to the jaw. She realized Anderson was the man behind her, as he came at her again. She tackled him and they tussled on the ground before she gained the upper hand. She was on top of him and punched him in the face. Something snapped inside of her and she continued to punch him until she felt strong arms dragging her off of his limp body.

Sherlock and Lestrade had returned, and, seeing the trio fighting, had broken it up.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Lestrade demanded, “You just knocked out two of my officers.”

“Donovan slapped me, I shoved her and then we fought. Anderson tried to help her, so I knocked him out too.”

“Over what?” Lestrade questioned.

Christina just shrugged, but she could tell that Sherlock knew.

Lestrade shook his head disgustedly. “Right well get home. And don’t some to any more crime scenes, otherwise I’ll arrest you for trespassing.”

She nodded sharply and left, calling John on the cab ride home.

He met her at home, and after putting ice on her cheekbone, told her that he had to go back to work.

She waved him out, “That’s fine, I need to shower before Sherlock gets home anyways.”

-

Sherlock arrived home from the crime scene earlier than usual. He walked into the flat, and heard singing. Upon further investigation, he found it coming from the bathroom, and assumed that Christina was taking a shower. He paused to listen; she was singing some obnoxious country song about chicken and porches that set his teeth on edge. However, he heard her turn off the water, so he quickly retreated to the kitchen. After a few minutes, he walked to his room. The door was open, and he could see her finishing getting dressed. She was facing away, with her pants and bra on, but he could still see her numerous scars.

“When are you going to tell John that you were abducted in Afghanistan?”

The question stopped her. Still facing away, she asked, “How did you know?”

“Well you first aroused my suspicions when you were telling John that you were injured. There was a slight hesitation. And every time someone touched you, inadvertently or not, you flinched slightly, meaning that contact is unwelcome. But mostly, today, you had no problems fighting Donovan, a woman, yet as soon as Anderson attacked from behind, you snapped, suggesting that a man has assaulted you before, only this was the first time you could do anything about it.”

She turned around to see him leaning in the doorway. “The same day John was wounded, there was a raid on the medical compound. I was kidnapped. They tortured me for information, and then they made me part of their harem. But the beatings didn’t stop because I was too proud and independent. They were going to beat me into submission. Finally, the American troops found me. But I wasn’t allowed back on duty due to my injuries. Both physical and mental, apparently.”

Sherlock walked over and stood in front of her. He reached out and touched one of the scars on her stomach, slowly tracing it around her body. Christina shivered and tried to pull away, but Sherlock stopped her. “Relax, I won’t hurt you, I promise.” She looked up into his pale eyes and nodded, leaning into him as he held her, tracing the scars on her back. It was oddly intimate, yet not intrusive.

Finally he stepped back and let her finish dressing before clearing his throat. “I would like to thank you for defending me. You didn’t have to. I’m used to it now.”

She shook her head. “It was the right thing to do.”

Sherlock grinned lopsidedly. “Would you… would you like to go see the sunset on the Thames. I’m told it’s something interesting about London.”

Christina paused. “Like a date?”

“No.” Sherlock responded quickly, a little too quickly. He refused to look at her.

She grinned. “Sure Sherlock, I would love to go on a not-date with you.”

Sherlock looked at her sharply. “Right sunset is at precisely 6:08 PM, so we will leave at 6:00. Yes?” When she nodded, he abruptly left the room. She smiled softly to herself. She was going on a date with Sherlock Holmes.

+++++++++++++++

 “What do I wear Mrs. Hudson?” Christina paced around her room. “I don’t exactly have many clothes with me.”

“Just wear something you can run in dear. You’ll end up running around most likely.”

Christina settled on her dark navy skinny jeans, sky blue V-neck, brown riding boots, and brown leather jacket.

“You look lovely dear, and don’t let Sherlock tell you otherwise. He can be quite rude.” The older lady said as she ushered Christina out the door.

-

At precisely 6:06, Sherlock and Christina arrived at one of the many bridges that crossed the Thames. As the sun began to set over the water, she gasped as the skyline seemed to be set on fire. She pulled out her phone and snapped several shots before standing next to Sherlock, who was gazing impassively out on the water.

Christina looked up to him and said, “Thank you so much Sherlock, it’s beautiful,” as she reached out to take his hand. He looked down at the contact, but then returned his gaze to the water. They stood like this for a few minutes until one of the passersby asked if she wanted a picture of the background with her boyfriend.

“I'm not her boyf-” Sherlock began before he was cut off by Christina.

“Sure! Thank you so much!” She said to the woman. “And smile, Sherlock,” she admonished the man.

Sherlock grimaced as the picture was taken, but Christina seemed happy with it. As she looked at it, she chuckled at his expression. “I said smile, not look like you’re in pain. It’s perfect though.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, which then widened as he felt her kiss him on the cheek.

“I'm sorry.” She stammered, looking down at her feet. “That was a bit impulsive.”

“No it’s – it was nice.”

Christina nodded, still looking at her feet. Sherlock turned to face her, tilting her chin up with his finger. “I mean it. It was - nice.”

She studied his face, before her eyes narrowed. “Have you ever been kissed before?”

He flushed and cleared his throat. “Um, not quite.”

Christina grinned wickedly, eyes flashing as she stood on her tiptoes, put her hands on either side of Sherlock’s face, and kissed him passionately. He broke it, breathing rapidly, then kissed her back. She threw her arms around his neck, as his hands found her waist. They broke apart, both flushed.

“Well that was something.” Sherlock stated dryly.

Christina smiled angelically, grabbed his hand, then turned and began walking across the bridge. “Come on, I’m hungry.”

They found a small café where Christina ordered a sandwich, and they sat down as she ate. Suddenly, Sherlock’s phone rang.

“Hello Lestrade.”

“Sherlock we’ve got a case; we need you to come in.”

Sherlock looked over at Christina, who was now pointedly staring at her sandwich.

“Uh – I’m sorry – I can’t – I’m on a – date.” Christina’s head flashed up at the use of the last word.

“A date?”

They could both hear Anderson’s voice in the background. “He’s got a date? With an alive human being?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “So sorry Lestrade.” And then he hung up.

Christina was looking at her sandwich again. “If you want to go, you can. It won’t bother me.”

Sherlock shook his head. “No I believe that’s what John would call ‘being rude’. Let’s go home.”

They walked back to Baker Street in silence, holding hands.

When they got into the flat, no one was home, so Christina pulled Sherlock into his bedroom and shut the door. They kissed once, twice, and Christina got Sherlock’s shirt off. She pushed him onto the bed and got on top of him, straddling him as she kissed her way up his chest. He moaned and put his hands on her hips as she ground down on him while simultaneously pulling of her shirt. Abruptly, she stopped and got off him, holding her head in her hands.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

Sherlock got out of bed, walking to where she stood, and put his arms around her. “It’s quite all right. I rather enjoyed it.”

She gave him a wan smile. “Yes it’s supposed to be enjoyable. But your first time is supposed to be special. You should be the one to make the decision. So we will wait.”

He held her for a few minutes, his face buried in her hair. “This is all so new to me. I’ve never felt so – alive.”

She chuckled, then led him back to bed. “You know I’m not a virgin.”

He inclined his head. “I deduced as much when you said you were in a harem,’ he said dryly, “and you have, no doubt, figured out that I am, as of yet, still inexperienced in the ways of women.”

Christina snuggled into his chest, feeling him trace her scars once more. “It’s fine, Sherlock.”

They spent the night in his bed, talking, and he held her when she finally fell asleep. He looked down at her still form, drinking in the gentle planes of her face. These sensations were so new to him: both physical and emotional. He never thought that anyone could render him like this, yet this was nearly as strong as his friendship with John. She shifted in her asleep, turning so that her back was to him. His face darkened as he saw her myriad scars. He held her close, so that her back was to his chest, and he fell asleep as well.

The next several weeks continued as such, and John was surprised to see the effects that Christina was having on Sherlock. No longer was he so rude, at least not in front of Christina, and he actually went to bed at night. Sleep, not always, but he was quiet enough that John actually got some sleep. It was an improvement.

+++++++++++++++

Sherlock was now accustomed to calling Christina his girlfriend, though they had fought about it. When he had reduced the girl to tears, he quickly realized that he had done something wrong, so he put his arms around her and apologized. John dropped his mug in the kitchen.

“Wait did he really just apologize?” he said peeking his head into the sitting room. Two pairs of eyes glared at him, then resumed kissing as he hastily retreated back into the kitchen.

Suddenly, Sherlock’s phone went off. “Case. I have to go.” Christina pecked him on the lips before he dashed off, John in tow. She went to shower before meeting Molly for lunch, and when she was dressed, she walked down the hallway towards the kitchen. She stopped abruptly when she noticed a man standing behind Sherlock’s chair.

“Um hello? Who are you, and how did you get in?”

The man turned around and extended a hand. “Mycroft Holmes. Sherlock’s brother.”

Christina shook his hand and sat down on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her. Sherlock had told her a little about his brother. “I’m guessing this is not a purely social visit Mr. Holmes?”

Mycroft sat as well. “No Ms. Poulos. I believe you are in a relationship with my brother.”

“What’s it to you?”

“I’ll be honest Ms. Poulos. Sherlock is not healthy for you. He is abrasive and dangerous. Leave while you have the chance.”

Christina stood, eyes flashing. “I most certainly will not! He may be rude but he can’t hurt me. I’m combat trained. Regardless, he and I have something special.”

Mycroft relaxed into the chair. “So you really do care for him. Very well. I will be watching.” He swept out of the room, leaving Christina trembling with anger.

She left the flat earlier than necessary, texting John about where they were. She found the crime scene relatively easily, and stood on the sidewalk just outside the crime scene tape. It took Sherlock about three seconds to notice she was there and another two that she was very upset. He left Lestrade and walked over.

“What’s wrong?”

“Mycroft visited.”

Sherlock’s face darkened. “What did he want with you?”

“For me to leave you.” Christina was crying now.

Sherlock held her close and whispered in her ear. “Ignore him. I care for you and you care for me. That’s what counts.”

Christina looked up, her lips quirked in the smile that Sherlock loved, “Still can’t say the “l” word, huh?”

“Love is a chemical mixture. Doesn’t exist.”

She chuckled and checked her watch. “Oops I'm going to be late for lunch with Molly. I better go.” Then, in plain view of Lestrade, Sally, and Anderson, she kissed him on the lips. She could feel the gawking as she walked off, and she laughed to herself. Sherlock was going to have to deal with that.

-

That evening, as Sherlock and she were in bed, he suddenly rolled on top of her.

“Christina. I think I’m ready,” he whispered huskily as he began kissing her neck and undressing her.

She writhed underneath him, feeling the heat build, trying to breathe. “Sherlock, wait. Sherlock!”

He groaned and rolled to the side. “What now?”

“I can’t. I'm not ready.”

He propped himself up on an elbow, looking puzzled. “But you’ve already lost your virginity.”

Christina took a deep breath. “Yes. But I'm still not ready to do this.”

“Why do you care? It’s not your virginity. You can’t get yours back, and I’m perfectly willing to lose mine.”

The words cut through Christina with their insensitivity. She gets out of bed, beginning to cry, and puts on her clothes. Sherlock tries to stop her, but she just punches him in the jaw. She bursts out of the bedroom, startling John, who tries to calm her down.

“Christina, what’s wrong?”

“Him!” she says gesturing back to the bedroom, the tears pouring steadily now. “He’s being a complete asshole! More so than usual. And this is exactly why I don’t open up John. Because I always get hurt.” And with that she stalked out of the flat.

Sherlock joined John in the living room to hear the front door slam shut. Mrs. Hudson poked her head out into the landing, “Is everything alright dears?”

“Yes Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock and Christina had a row.” John called back as he turned to Sherlock. “Alright what did you do?”

Sherlock ran a hand through his hair. “I wanted to sleep with her. Except I was rather rude.” He turned and went back into the bedroom, slamming the door shut.

John shook his head and decided to wait up for Christina.

-

Christina found herself walking in a dark London street, so she patted her jacket to make sure her gun was still there. Suddenly, there was a flurry of movement and she was surrounded. She pulled her gun as a small man in a suit walked forward.

“Drop it.” He said in a sing song voice. She didn’t move until everyone around her started pulling guns. She slowly raised her hands and put the gun down in front of her.

“Good.” He dragged out the one word. “So tell me what is little Sherly up to now? Does he keep you as a pet?”

“I’m his girlfriend. Or at least I was. I just left.”

The man put on a sad face. “Oh how awful. What happened dear?”

Christina looked at the ground and mumbled, “He wanted to have sex.”

“Oh did he? Is he bad then?”

“I wouldn’t know. We didn’t actually have sex.”

“Tell me something dearest. How experienced is he?”

Christina looked up. “Not at all.”

The man clapped and twirled with glee. “Oh a virgin. How perfect!”

Christina just watched as he laughed.

“Now dear, you and him are done, yes?” Christina nodded. “Good, well I’ll be off then. And tell him the Jimmy says hi!” The man gave one last giggle before leaving, and suddenly Christina was alone.

She walked back to the flat and climbed the stairs slowly. John was waiting for her with a cup of tea. “Need to talk?”

She nodded and gestured out to the stairs. John joined her, sitting on the landing outside 221b. “John I have some things I need to tell you.” She began with what had happened in Afghanistan, not looking at John in shame. He put his arms around her as she continued. “This thing with Sherlock, it was great. I thought I had finally met someone who wouldn’t view me as someone broken. But then he wanted to go further. And the thing is, Sherlock would have been the first person that I wanted to be with. It’s the same thing to me as it is to him. I may not be a virgin, but I still don’t know what it’s like to be with someone who cares. I just don’t want to get taken advantage of again.”

John was silent for a moment. “Obviously he didn’t know. I’m not excusing him. He was rude and insensitive. But give him another chance.”

Christina nodded wiping her tears away. “Another thing, while I was out, this guy said to say ‘hello from Jimmy’. He surrounded me in an alleyway and asked me about Sherlock but left me alone when I said that we weren’t together. Who is he?”

John had paled. “I need to talk to Lestrade. Go stay with Molly. I know you were planning on moving out anyway.”

Christina nodded, still confused. “I think I will sleep on the couch tonight if you don’t mind John.”

He nodded and made his way to the kitchen. What neither of them knew was that Sherlock had heard the whole conversation.

+++++++++++++++

Christina awoke to violin music. Sherlock. She had fallen asleep on the sofa, but someone had taken the care to cover her with a blanket. She got up and realized that it was Sherlock’s comforter. _Why would he cover me with his on blanket_? She wondered. No matter. She shook her head and headed into the kitchen. John had left early for work, leaving her alone in the flat with Sherlock. Christina kept replaying the last night in her head and was so engrossed in her thoughts that she failed to notice Sherlock leaving. When the front door slammed shut, she came out of her reverie and looked around the flat, pulling her phone out.

Hey Molly. Can I move in with you for a bit? Sherlock’s being… you know. –Christina

Sure! Today? –Molly

If at all possible. I don’t want to be a burden. –Christina

Not at all! Just meet me at Bart’s when I get off work. Probably 6. –Molly

You’re a dear. I owe you one Mols. –Christina

Christina breathed a sigh of relief. She looked around the flat again and headed into Sherlock’s room to gather her things. At three pm, she was all packed up, so she went downstairs to visit Mrs. Hudson, who wasn’t there. Christina was upset; she had wanted to say goodbye to the landlady who had always treated her so wonderfully, so she contented herself with writing a note to the motherly woman. Suddenly, the door to the flat creaked open. She turned around to find Sherlock in the doorway.

“Christina.” His deep voice whispered as he reached out to her.

She stepped back and his arm dropped. “What do you want Sherlock?”

“I-” he stopped. “I wanted to apologise. I was rather insensitive to your feelings. I didn’t know I would have been your first real time. “

Her eyes narrowed. “Were you listening to me and John?”

He looked sheepishly at the ground. “I do care for you Christina. Honestly. I just wanted you so badly.”

Christina took a step closer to Sherlock, leaving only a few inches between them. She gazed into his eyes for a moment, as if testing his motives and honesty before leaning into his chest. His arms went around her and he buried his face in her hair.

“Sherlock, I'm sorry too. I overreacted last night. And -” she took a deep breath, “- and if you still want to, I want to as well. Truth is, I always did. I was just too scared.”

 Sherlock looked completely and utterly shocked for about three seconds, then he kissed Christina passionately and carried her up the stairs to his bedroom. She locked the door behind him and started kissing him, running her hand through his thick curls. He slid his coat off and started unbuttoning his shirt while Christina slipped her t-shirt and jeans off. She reached down, unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, allowing him to step out of them. He was still struggling with the buttons on his shirt, so she pushed him on the bed, straddling him, and made short work of it. She kissed his ivory chest and neck feeling him grow against her leg and the heat build between her own.

 She ground down on him and he hissed with pleasure before he flipped over, trapping her underneath his body. Sherlock kissed her twice while unfastening her bra, then slowly kissed down her body to her breasts. He began to tease one nipple with his tongue while his hands ghosted down her body, sliding her panties off. Christina moaned loud and pulled his face back up to her to kiss him, tongues pushing against each other as Sherlock pushed two fingers inside her. Her body arched in pleasure and her moan was swallowed by Sherlock. He kissed down her body, fingers still moving inside her, so that he was nestled between her legs. He looked up at her, smirking, blue eyes twinkling mischievously, before leaning down and licking a long, wet strip on the inside of her thigh. She gasped and grabbed his hair, but he just chuckled, the vibrations doing wonderful things. He traced her wetness with his tongue before flicking at her clit.

 “Fuck Sherlock. I thought you had never done this.”

 He looked up. “That may be true, but I am not inept at pleasure.” He licked her clit again before she could retort with something sarcastic. He fucked her with his tongue for several minutes until she felt that he was looking altogether too smug in between her legs. With great willpower, she pulled herself away from his wonderful tongue and pushed him back.

 “You know, two can play that game Sherlock.”

 His eyes widened as Christina stripped his boxers off and took his sizable erection into her mouth. She slowly licked and sucked as she took it out of her mouth. Sherlock could barely speak and Christina just raised an eyebrow at him before licking down the vein on the underside of his shaft. Sherlock hissed and grabbed at the sheets. Christina licked a circle around the base of his shaft before pressing a chaste kiss to his balls. Then she took him back in her mouth, licking and sucking.

 Sherlock groaned. “Unhhh Christina, I need you. Now.”

 Christina would tease him more, but she was suddenly overcome with the same urge of wanting Sherlock inside her NOW. They flipped so that Christina was on the bottom and Sherlock entered her quickly. She cried out; Sherlock inside her felt good, but he is so damn big, and it took a moment for her to get used to it. Then he was moving fast, and she reclaimed his lips. He fingered her clit as they went, and soon she felt the heat pooling in between her legs unbearably.

 “Sher-Sherlock. I’m close. So close.”

 He bent down to kiss her neck, right where the carotid artery splits into the interior and exterior carotids, and she came, clenching around him. He gasped into her neck as he lost control and came inside of her. They laid there for a while, enjoying the feeling of being intertwined, when Sherlock realized something. He pulls out. “We didn’t use protection.”

 Christina just shook her head. “I'm on birth control. We’ll be fine. Plus, I never got pregnant in Afghanistan and there were no protective measures there.”

 Sherlock looks concerned, but laid back down next to Christina. Suddenly they realize that John is in the flat and neither of them knows when he got back. Added to that, Mycroft’s voice can be heard on the landing. Both Sherlock and Christina tense, but then she has an idea.

 She gets up and kisses Sherlock. “Go shower. I have a plan.”

 Sherlock grins. Knowing Christina, it was something that would make both the men uncomfortable. She pulled on his shirt and buttoned it halfway.

 “How do I look?”

 “I should put you in my clothes more often. Though it barely covers you.”

 She laughed. “That was the point. Now go shower.” She slips out of Sherlock’s room as he shakes his head. What he wouldn’t give to see their expressions.

 Meanwhile, Christina walks down the hall, looking completely innocent and shocked when she walks into the living room and both men catch sight of her.

 John splutters and whirls around while Mycroft turns red and looks at some point past her on the wall.

 “So sorry gentlemen. I didn’t hear you come in.” She walks past them into the kitchen then reappears with a can of whipped cream. Christina walked back past them winking at Mycroft and purposely waving the hand that held the can.

 As she disappeared into Sherlock’s room, she heard Mycroft saying that he was leaving and John agreeing with him. She giggled wickedly, texted Molly that she wouldn’t need to move in, then joined Sherlock in the shower.

-

That night, they had sex again. After they were done, Christina snuggled into Sherlock’s side. He held the girl, thinking.

 “Stop it Sherlock,” she mumbled drowsily.

 “Stop what?”

 “Thinking. Just relax.”

 “I can’t. Christina, you have to go.”

 Christina tensed and felt tears well up in her eyes.

 Sherlock felt her reaction and sat up. “No! No, not because of that. Because I want to keep you safe. Moriarty already found you once. He only let you go because he thought you weren’t connected to me. Imagine what he’ll do if he knows we are back together.”

 Christina was quiet. “I still want to be with you Sherlock.”

 He sighed. “I do as well. I- well I love you Christina.”

 Christina was shocked. Sherlock never said the “l” word.

 “Please Christina. Please go. I cannot bear to lose something I love so much.”

 After a long moment, she nodded. “I love you as well Sherlock.”

-

Within two days, Christina was back in the States. She had moved in with two of her best friends and had officially retired from the military.

+++++++++++++++

 [Post-Reichenbach]

 When John had called her and told her the news, Christina had broken down crying, and her roommates had gotten rather concerned. Now she was stepping off the plane. She was back in London. She had missed the funeral, but she still needed to go visit one last time. As she entered the terminal, she looked around and saw John and Molly waiting for her. She walked over, hoping they would recognize her. When they did, John’s jaw dropped and Molly looked rather surprised.

 John looked at her. “Christina… you… you’re pregnant?”

 She nodded, hands going to cradle her distended stomach. “It’s his,” she whispers, tears threatening to spill.”

 Molly hugged her. “How far along are you?”

 “Eight and a half months.”

 John shook his head. “You shouldn’t have traveled if you’re that far along. Boy or girl?”

 “Boy. I’ve already picked the name. Christopher Sherlock Holmes. He ought to have something from…” She faltered, “from his father.”

 Molly put her arm around the woman as John took her bag. The cab ride back to 221b was spent in silence. They had all agreed that Christina would stay in the flat even though John was no longer there. She had Mrs. Hudson to help her. As they entered the flat, John looked as if he would start crying, and Christina did start crying. John turned to leave, but stopped.

 “Christina, I… well I’m so sorry. He wasn’t an easy man to love, but I know you did, and he loved you as well. I’ll take you to his grave tomorrow. And um, my therapist told me to write a letter to him, so I thought you might want to do the same.” With that he left.

 Christina was tired, so she walked to Sherlock’s room and fell asleep curled in his sheets, inhaling his fading scent. When she awoke, she held back the tears from the reality that Sherlock was truly gone. Not gone as in she could not see him again, but gone as in ripped out of the world. She blinked rapidly to clear her eyes from tears threatening to spill over and decided to take John’s advice about writing the letter.

  _Dear Sherlock,_

_I hate you. So much. And I love you. And I can’t do this. You don’t know how scared I was when I first found out I was pregnant. I knew I was going to be alone, but I knew you were alive. And now? Well now you’re gone. And I have no one. I needed you. I hope he has your eyes Sherlock, but seeing them every day would just kill me. I’m falling apart. I can’t do this. I loved you so much, and you finally returned it. That night was heaven. And now it’s just a mockery of everything._

_How could you Sherlock? You could’ve told me! You could’ve come to America and started over. We could have been together and we could have had a family. And now I have nothing but your unborn child. I will take care of him; he's the only thing I have of you. I hope he likes science and he can make deductions like you could. I_ will _teach him manners though. Oh Sherlock, how I wish you were here. I need a hug, need the comfort only you can give. But you are gone. And slowly, the world is moving on. Already, your scent is fading from the sheets, and people are going about their business as usual. Except for me. And John and a few others._

_And really Sherlock, how could you? If not for me, then for John. You know that he needed you as much as you needed him. He’s gone back to limping, but he’s refusing to use his cane, just for you. He’ll go to Angelo’s and sit there without eating, just to remember. He misses you Sherlock. We all do. Lestrade is a mess. He’s on probation right now. If not for him you wouldn’t have anything, and you jumped just the same. And Mrs. Hudson? Even she misses the incessant violin music and the shooting at her walls more than she’d care to admit. She would take it all back in a heartbeat if it meant that you were alive. We all would. Molly is with Lestrade now, not that you would care. She was always beneath your interest; we all were, but we still want you back._

_Please, just please be a dream? Let me wake up and let you be alive. But it won’t happen no matter how many times I wish it. I love you Sherlock Holmes. And I know you aren’t a fake._

-

The next day, John and Christina stood in front of Sherlock’s gravestone. She knelt and touched the smooth lettering, wanting to cry, but she was empty. She had cried herself out. She left her letter beside some flowers, then John helped her up and they walked away. Had they but looked back, they would have been surprised to see a tall man with an umbrella pick up the letter and pocket it.

+++++++++++++++

Christina was going to see Mycroft today. The older man had requested to see her, and as much as she didn’t want to, she knew that she had to. She was currently in a car on her way to see him, and she busied herself with staring out the window, taking in the familiar sights of London. When they arrived at Mycroft’s house, Anthea helped Christina out of the car and into a fancy study where Mycroft was on the phone. He finished the phone call, then helped Christina into a comfy chair and sat across from her.

 “Tea Christina?”

 “No thank you.”

 Mycroft nodded, poured himself a cup, then leaned back. “I would like to say that I am sorry for what has happened, but I did warn you that loving him would be dangerous.”

 “I’m sorry as well Mycroft. I know you and he had an… interesting relationship, but losing someone isn’t easy.”

 Mycroft took a deep breath. “How much do you know of what happened after you left?”

 “A fair amount. I kept up with John’s blog.”

 “Did John tell you in detail about certain things?”

 Christina looked sharply at Mycroft, trying to see where the conversation was going. “If you are referring to Irene Adler, then yes I am aware that Sherlock had feelings for her. But you will also note that he did not sleep with her and that he cut off emotional ties after the case.”

 Mycroft nodded.

 Christina looked at her lap. “But it’s fine. I didn’t expect him to remain attached to me. I told him he could move on, and I would try to as well. I have no ill feelings towards him because of it.”

  _Meanwhile, Sherlock is watching and listening from another room. “Interesting. She still has feelings for me. And she isn’t upset about The Woman.”_

 Mycroft nods again. “Understandable. Now what are you going to do about your child?”

  _“Yes. What about our child? You said you were pregnant in your letter.”_

 “I am going to raise him in America. But I plan on bringing him back every year. John said he would help raise him, and so did Molly. But Mycroft I have a favor to ask of you.”

 “Ask, and if it is in my power, I shall grant it.”

 Christina took a deep breath before continuing. “He ought to know his father’s family. So would you please be there no matter what? If not for me, then for Sherlock?”

 Mycroft looked taken aback. “You want me to be a part of your new family?”

  _Mycroft had a wire in his ear so that Sherlock could talk to him. “Mycroft, you better help her.”_

 Christina nodded. “If he can’t have his father, he ought to have people who knew him, people who knew the real him. We know that Sherlock wasn’t a fake.”

 Mycroft was quiet for a moment. “Yes. I will be there. And tell me if you ever need anything. I suppose we are family now, by blood if not legally.”

 Christina smiled. “Thank you. I really should be going now.”

  _Sherlock made up his mind to see her before she left._

 Christina opened the door to leave and found a familiar face with pale blue eyes and a mop of dark curly hair on the other side.

 “Sherlock?” she whispered.

 “Yes it’s me. I had to fake my death to save Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, and John. I am taking down Moriarty’s network, and I have to stay dead to do that. But I couldn’t bear to see you in pain. I had to tell you,” his arms went around her and he placed a hand on her stomach, “And you’re pregnant. A boy. I hope he looks more like you; you are so beautiful and I’ve missed you so much.”

 Christina was still in shock. She slowly reached out to touch Sherlock’s face, and he turned into the contact. She processed Sherlock’s words and realized something. “You read my letter didn’t you?”

 Sherlock chuckled, and the sound made Christina glow inside. He was real. He was alive. She crashed her lips onto his, only to be reminded that she was hugely pregnant.

 Sherlock chuckled again. “You have a baby bump dear. I don’t think things will work quite the same.” He led her to a seat and they sat together, talking. Finally, she had to leave, and she kissed him goodbye. He watched her get in a car from an upstairs window and Mycroft appeared next to him.

 “Sherlock, it isn’t proper. Do you really want that for your child and the woman you loved?”

 Sherlock sighed and turned away from the window. “Love. Present tense. But it’s better this way. And I have a feeling she will wait until I return to the land of the living.”

+++++++++++++++

Christina returned to the United States a few days later. Within the week, she had her child, a beautiful baby boy, Christopher Sherlock Holmes. Molly came to visit with Mrs. Hudson, and they stayed for a few weeks helping out with the new baby.

 Five years passed and Christina got the excited call from Molly that Greg had proposed to her, they were getting married in June, and would she be a bridesmaid? Christina of course said yes, and she found out that John had met a woman as well, Mary Morstan. They were due to be married in August of that same year, so Christina took the entire summer off to go visit London and her friends. She had taken Chris back every summer for a week or two, but now that he was 5, he would hopefully remember more of the trip.

 When she arrived at Heathrow, both Molly and Mary were waiting for her. They had become fast friends, and Christina was sure that she would love Mary as well. After making it back to Baker Street, the girls sat down for a talk while Mrs. Hudson brought up some tea. John and Greg came over and were talking to Chris about cars and other things, which Christina was grateful for. Both the men had really taken to the boy, and cared for him, as did Molly and it seemed Mary as well.

 The wedding was in a week, and Mary and Christina were planning the bachelorette party down to a T. They had quite some fun in store for Molly. Finally the day came, and the pair happily dragged Molly out of Greg’s flat while promising that they would take good care of her. Chris was spending the night with Grandma Hudson, so the three women had 221b to themselves.

 After a night of jello shots, crazy dancing, and catching up over the past few months, the three women changed into pajamas and crawled into bed together, falling asleep quickly. The next day, four alarms went off, and they all jumped out of bed quickly. Each showered, then they began the process of getting ready for the wedding. Molly had picked beautiful, but simple green dresses for the bridesmaid and maid of honor, and had a ball gown wedding dress herself. As Mary did Molly’s makeup, Christina began her hair, all of them chattering away. When the Mycroft’s car came to pick them up, all of the women were ready, Chris in his suit, and Mrs. Hudson was dressed as well.

 Chris went to sit with Mrs. Hudson next to Molly’s brothers in the front row while the bride and her party waited in the back of the church. The groom and his party were already standing by the altar. The music began, and Christina took a deep breath before beginning the walk towards the altar. She nearly stopped halfway down as she looked at the two men standing beside Greg. John of course was there as the best man, but behind him was tall, pale man with a mop of dark curly hair. Sherlock. Christina made it to the altar and stood to the side, waiting for Mary and Molly to finish their procession, but she never took her eyes off of him.

 He was there. In the flesh. Back from the dead. She barely registered Mary coming to stand beside her and whispering, “Surprise Christina dear.” Sherlock was apparently here to stay. The ceremony passed by quickly, and she applauded when Greg and Molly kissed. And then it was time for the men to escort the women back down the aisle. First were Greg and Molly, then John and Mary, and finally Christina and Sherlock. She felt a thrill run through her as she touched his arm.

 “You’re back then?”

 “Yes Christina.”

 “When? And how did they take it?”

Sherlock chuckled. “John punched me. But they are all rather glad to see me. We’ve patched things up, though I suspect things will be quite different what with all the marriages.”

By this time, they were in the reception hall, and couldn’t speak for some time as everyone was giving toasts. When everyone had eaten, and the party was well underway, Christina found her son and brought him over to meet Sherlock.

“Christopher, honey, I want you to meet someone. This is your daddy. He’s been away doing his job, but he’s finished, and he’s back now. Say hi now.”

Sherlock squatted down to face his son. “Hello Christopher.”

“Hello. Are you going to stay? Because mommy cries a lot about you.”

Sherlock looked up at Christina who flushed and looked away. “Yes, Christopher. I will be here. Your mother is very precious to me, as are you. I love you both very much.”

Christopher thought this over, then nodded. “Do you like cars?”

Sherlock broke out in a smile, and began discussing cars and superheroes with his son. Christina left the pair and went over to talk to Molly and Greg.

“First off, congratulations you two!” she said hugging them, “And secondly, why did you hide it?”

Molly laughed, and Greg shook his head before answering, “The bloody idiot wouldn’t let me tell you. You have no idea how creative he can be when he wants something.”

Christina smiled, “Oh yes I do. But again, congratulations! I love the both you like family, and I know Chris does as well.”

Suddenly, Christina felt hands upon her waist. “May I have this dance Ms. Poulos?”

“Yes you may Mr. Holmes.”

As the two began dancing, Christina could see John and Mary dancing as well, and Sherlock maneuvered them to be near the other couple.

“Christina, John and I were talking, and we want to have Chris spend the night at our house so you and Sherlock can have some time together.”

Christina blushed but thanked John and Mary all the same. Chris was ecstatic when he found out that he got to spend the night at “Uncle John’s house” because he could play with the dog.

“He’ll be fine for one night, go enjoy yourself,” John had said as she embraced her son for the night.

“Thank you John.”

Sherlock stood beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist as they watched their son walk off with his aunt and uncle.

“Shall we go home?”

Christina nodded, and soon, they were back at 221b. Christina had fallen asleep on Sherlock’s shoulder during the cab ride, so he simply carried her upstairs, taking off her dress, and laying her in his bed. He quickly undressed and got into bed beside her. She snuggled into his chest and he realized just how much he had missed her. They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

+++++++++++++++

Christina awoke suddenly to the darkness of the night. She felt tears still on her face from her nightmare. Sherlock wasn’t alive. He wasn’t back. Then she felt something nuzzling her neck. She turned around to see him curled around her, sleeping peacefully. It hadn’t been a dream then. Sherlock was really here. She turned and tucked her head under his chin and began running her fingers through his hair. He stirred and slowly opened his eyes.

“You’ve been crying. What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “Just being silly.”

Sherlock took lifted her chin so she had to look at him. “No. What’s wrong?”

Christina sighed. “Nightmare. I thought you weren’t back, that you weren’t coming back, and I was going to be alone.”

Sherlock was silent for a moment before speaking. “This is by no means the proper way to do this, but I am going to regardless. I regret what I had to do, but I am never leaving you again, and to prove this, Christina Poulos, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

Christina froze. “Do you really mean it?”

“Would I say something if I didn’t mean it?”

Christina was silent for several minutes. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes I will marry you.”

Sherlock kissed her lips briefly before snuggling into her. “I’ll get you a ring; I’ve had my eye on one for some time now, but if you want, you can pick it out yourself.”

Christina kissed the top of his head then whispered, “Get the one you like; I'm sure I’ll love it.”

Sherlock kissed her neck, running his hands up and down her stomach. “Do you want to…?”

She chuckled softly before sliding to straddle her fiancé. “Oh definitely. I’ve waited five years for this.”

Sherlock stopped her. “You waited?” he asked in surprise.

Christina looked down confused. “Well of course. You were alive. There was no point in trying to move on. I just had to wait for you.”

Sherlock’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t deserve you. You are far too good for me.”

“No. Don’t ever say that. You are exactly what I need. You deserve me and I deserve you. End of story.”

Sherlock smirked at her, which quickly turned into a gasp as she rolled her hips on top of him. He found himself appreciating the fact that her bridesmaid’s dress required her to not wear a bra and so she was already in just panties. He trailed his hands down her sides until they came to her hips, where they stopped. Christina leaned into to kiss him and Sherlock used the opportunity to slip her panties off and two fingers inside of her. She gasped as he began moving inside of her. He watched, growing harder, as she fucked herself on his fingers before shuddering with her release. He pulled his fingers out and proceeded to lick them clean, raising an eyebrow at Christina’s blissed expression.

“I take it you enjoyed that, then?”

Christina gave a roll of her hips, making Sherlock moan. “I don’t know. Why don’t you deduce it?”

Sherlock hissed as she snapped her hips again. “I – ah – I’d say you – you did.”

Christina leaned down so that her lips were pressed to Sherlock’s clavicle, “Right you are Mr. Holmes.” She slid his boxers down and stroked his extremely hard cock a few times before sitting back.

“Condom this time, then?”

Sherlock nodded towards his nightstand, and Christina got one, tearing the foil off. She kissed the leaking head of his cock before sliding the condom on it and sinking down onto it. Sherlock hissed as her wetness enveloped him, and she sat there for a few seconds, bracing her hands on his chest as she got accustomed to his size. After a few moments she looked up to Sherlock, smirking and refusing to move.

“Fuck. Christina move. Please move. Please. I need this.”

Christina chuckled into his neck, and slowly moved her hips. She could feel the tension leaking out of Sherlock’s body as she began to move faster. She traced her fingers down his body, feeling him shudder at her touch. She knew that he was close when he started thrusting up to meet her, desperate for the friction. She felt a second orgasm coming, so she clenched down on Sherlock, squeezing tight. His mouth opened in a wordless scream, his back arching as he came. The sight of Sherlock completely undone beneath her sent Christina over the edge, and she fell against Sherlock's chest, both breathing heavily. When they had recovered somewhat, Sherlock pulled out and disposed of the condom, then returned to the bed and spooned Christina. They fell asleep like this, both feeling safe and content.

-

When they announced that they were getting married in a year, no one was shocked, not even Christina’s parents. She had explained the situation with Sherlock, and while they were not extremely pleased, they were just happy that their daughter was getting married. Christina’s mom had not been overly supportive, but at least mother and daughter were speaking again.

John and Mary’s wedding had been beautiful, and Sherlock had given a wonderful speech as the best man. Everything seemed to be looking good, and Christina marveled at how her life had changed for the better.

+++++++++++++++

 [One year later]

The music began playing and Christina watched as her two friends from America, Mary, and Molly began walking down the aisle. Finally, the wedding march began playing. Christina’s father kissed her on the forehead and they began walking down the aisle. As Sherlock wasn’t particularly religious, though he had been baptized as a child, he had agreed to being married in a Greek Orthodox Church. Sherlock was waiting at the altar, watching Christina walk down the aisle. He was in awe. She was beautiful. She was wearing a white strapless princess dress with a sweetheart neckline. Her hair was curled and cascaded over her shoulder.

 _She truly looks like a goddess_ , Sherlock mused.

Meanwhile, Christina had eyes only for Sherlock. He was dressed smartly in his tux, his curls forming a halo around his head.

 _He looks like an angel_ , Christina thought. And then, she was in front of the altar. Her father lifted her veil, kissed her on the cheek, handed her to Sherlock and then the ceremony began. Christina had explained to him previously that it would not be like other weddings with the exchanging of vows and such, but rather there would be several prayers read and the priest would bless them and place _stefana_ , wedding crowns, on their heads. The _stefana_ would be joined by a ribbon, signifying that they were man and wife; this was the actual marriage. Sherlock had seemed surprised, but interested, in her explanation.

The ceremony proceeded smoothly and after the _stefana_ were placed on their heads, they walked around the table in front of the altar three times. And that was it. They were married. Their friends and family gathered outside, and as they walked out, they were met with a barrage of rice being thrown at them.

The reception was held at the Holmes’ family home, courtesy of Mummy Holmes. There was drinking and food, and most of all dancing. After the bride and groom’s first dance and the father-daughter dance, the party had gotten underway. Sherlock had never seen Christina surrounded by all of her Greek friends and family, and it was like she was in another world. One of her cousins had brought a _bouzouki_ , some Greek guitar-looking thing, and had begun to play. Soon, the dance floor was filled with every single Greek person, including Christopher, all doing some fast dance that involved yelling at each other. Christina was dancing even in her long dress, and she was having the time of her life. Finally, the song ended, and they all went to get a drink. Christina found Sherlock talking to John and Mycroft.

“Next Greek song, you have to dance.”

“Christina, love, I don’t know how. Plus you know that I don’t like dancing.”

“You danced for _our_ dance,” she reminded him.

He grimaced. “Yes but that was our first dance.”

Christina pouted. “Please? If not for me, then for Chris?”

Sherlock sighed. “I will dance to a non-Greek song, if that is acceptable?”

Christina smiled and pulled him onto the dance floor. She had taught him how to shag, a popular Carolina dance, and so they began the dance. About a minute into the song, Christopher came running up, so she picked him up and began swaying to the music with Sherlock’s arms around them both.

Mycroft stood observing when Mummy walked up. “They look rather happy together, don’t they Mycroft?”

“Yes mother. I’m happy for him.”

“She’s not quite what I had in mind, but she’s good for him. And Christopher is a darling.”

The song ended and Christina handed Chris to Sherlock. She felt someone tapping on her shoulder. Mycroft.

“May I have this dance, dear sister?”

“Of course Mycroft.”

“Do take care of him Christina. I won’t watch as closely now, but I will be there if you need help.”

“I will. And thank you.”

Mycroft dipped his head, and then handed her off to Greg. Christina was passed around to all the men, and she could see Sherlock dancing with the women. Finally, she danced with John, who gave her advice.

“He’ll be difficult, but you already know that. Just make sure he eats. And hold your ground. Try to teach him about morals. And make sure Christopher doesn’t start acting like him. For the love of God, please. And on the tough days, remember the good things and why you fell in love with him in the first place.”

“Thank you John. You’ve been a great friend. And thank you for introducing us.”

John chuckled. “Yeah I suppose it’s my fault all this is happening.”

Christina smiled and kissed him on the cheek. Then Sherlock cleared his throat and John handed her to her husband.

The danced together for a bit, smiling at each other, when Sherlock leaned down and kissed her cheek and whispered, “Mrs. Holmes.”

Christina shivered and looked into his pale eyes, “Husband.”

Sherlock’s mouth quirked in that endearing smirk that he usually wore. “I was wondering if you were ready to retire for the evening?” he asked in a seductive voice.

Christina blushed and nodded.

“I never told you, but you look beautiful in this dress. It’s a shame that it’s coming off in a few minutes,” he whispered, giving her a shit-eating grin.

Christina raised her eyebrows then grinned seductively at him, whispering in his ear, “Well then let’s go, dear husband.”

They said goodnight to everyone and retired to their room. Christopher was spending the night with his Uncle John and Aunt Mary yet again, but he had no problems.

Soon they were alone and undressed. Sherlock leaned down to kiss Christina, but she pulled away and walked over to the bed.

“Come to bed husband.”

He walked over, and laid down on top of her. The consummated their marriage and lay talking for hours. Christina finally fell asleep with her head on Sherlock’s chest, their legs intertwined. Sherlock stayed awake, running his fingers through her hair. She stirred in her sleep when he kissed the top of her head. He held her tight and watched his sleeping wife.

“I love you Christina.”

**Author's Note:**

> The End.


End file.
